


어머나! 어머나!

by ninetwothrees



Series: and not one drama major among us [1]
Category: A Pink (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Romance, VIXX cameos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 22:27:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5683156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninetwothrees/pseuds/ninetwothrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chorong works at a coffee shop with the inappropriate Oh Hayoung, the enigma Son Naeun, and the probably-evil Jung Eunji, and their regular Kim Namjoo might as well work there (if she weren’t so busy pretending to study.) Chorong thinks her life is difficult until a terrifying pink-haired girl makes an appearance and that’s when her real problems begin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	어머나! 어머나!

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: alcohol use, bad humor and romcom cliches, probably inaccurate depiction of how uni and coffee shops work, unbeta'd
> 
> title is from jang yoonjeong's trot song _[omona!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ikNP_ekzlFg)_
> 
> the word _iljin_ is used in the fic, [here's](https://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20101127231237AA1N7lk) a definition if needed. (no actual iljins appear, ha)

Being shy and working as a barista at a highly populated university coffee shop isn't the best combination, one could argue - and Chorong did when her younger sister decided to be “helpful” and call in for a favor in form of getting Chorong the position on short notice. Her pride didn't let her skip on the first shift though, thinking she could simply thank for the kind accommodation and just as politely decline the offer. What she didn't count on was the animated populace of the café welcoming her with a warm and tight, very tight (read: practically inescapable) metaphorical embrace, and she could hardly squeeze in a word after her thank you, the only part of the plan she ended up carrying it out. “You're one of us now,” Oh Hayoung, the youngest of the staff, told her conspiratorially, almost menacingly, as she was tying up her apron, dark blue with white flower patterns, around her neck. And so she was.

Still, she could learn to mix coffee flavors but the seemingly unmixable combination of her timid personality and the intrinsically social job behind the counter remained a struggle. She suspected that the only way she got through any customer routine at all was the standard formula of _what would you like to order? - here or on-the-go? - what name should I write?_ integrated in any caffeine-addict’s brain, which didn't require her barely audible questions to be actually heard.

Jung Eunji disagreed, in vocal contrast, and Chorong can sense one of the Talks coming up when she notices Eunji's eyes following her from the side while Chorong pipes up a “that'll be 4 thousand won” and the student - “Jiyoon,” her Americano says - glances at the price on the display before fishing out the sum from the pocket of her pants.

“Unnie,” Eunji says pityingly before the student is hardly out the door. Then she notices Chorong’s bracing face and laughs. “You know what I'm gonna say, don't you?”

“It's fine, I have a system.” A flawed one, sure, in ten robotic orders there is one that runs into a hitch, and in ten nice, or at least apathetic students there is one not so nice, and there's no way of predicting when such incidents occur. Chorong leaves that out of her defense though. Whatever her argument, Eunji won't give up so easily anyway, that much is clear from the few weeks Chorong's had the pleasure of knowing her. Pleasure being a turn of phrase in this case. The difficulty of knowing Eunji might be more accurate even if it doesn't roll off the tongue as easily.

Sure enough - “I think you’d feel better with more confidence, is all,” Eunji continues, overflowing with resolve. “What's there not to be confident about, woman?”

Chorong suspects a compliment there under Eunji’s strong way of speech, but that's the thing, Eunji is strong, in pose and voice and character, and can't understand it doesn't come quite as easily to others.

“I'm fine,” Chorong says, giving a small smile, which reminds her of the sort of of smiles she'd throw her mom to get her off her back with her prying questions on how school was, when she was actually asking about her school _life_ , because school _work_ was fine, the actual kind of fine, unlike the other, trickier aspects of being a teenager, whatever that was even supposed to be.

Chorong's mom would retreat by now. Eunji, as it turns out, doesn't. “Just try it. Hardly anyone's in here. Try shouting around a bit.”

“ _Shouting?_ ” What a step-up from Chorong’s current goal of learning to coherently announce practiced phrases about coffee orders.

Eunji smiles in what's probably supposed to be an encouraging manner, like it's not an absolutely incredulous proposal. “Just go for it.”

“ _No._ ”

“Yah, Kim Namjoo!” Eunji yells without a warning, causing Chorong to jump up. “Want anything else?”

The few students spread around the café show interest for a few seconds at most, dedicating a single look in their direction before returning to minding their own business, and the addressee, Kim Namjoo herself, whom Chorong’s learned to identify as one of the regulars, exerts even less physical effort, her back still hunched over her textbook at one of the tables by the windowsill. “Less freaking sugar next time!” she shouts back. “More hours to sleep! An A on this essay! My own-”

“Okay, okay!” Eunji cuts her short with a snicker. She turns back to Chorong. “Easy, huh?” And without waiting for an answer, “Next time, you're doing this.” And she struts away, singing a vague melody and effectively leaving Chorong to wonder if she should try to escape this hell place after all, while she's still relatively intact.

She jumps up again when a tall shadow approaches, revealing Hayoung as if she'd been waiting for her turn. “Unnie, about the sugar… “

  


Chorong is the eldest unnie in their staff, excluding their manager unnie, who is never around anyway - Eunji actually isn't the manager, she could have fooled her - but it's easy for Chorong to forget her status, what with the maknae hovering over her and Eunji’s training attempts even after the official training period ended.

Chorong knows Eunji means well but she can't help but feel hopeful at the possibility of Eunji abandoning her recent training (torture) techniques when a few days pass without much more than Eunji flashing her supportive smiles.

No such luck.

“So,” Eunji puts her arm around Chorong's shoulders on one lazy evening, “shall we work on our shouting exercise?”

Chorong gives her a death stare.

“Yah,” Eunji says. ( _Really_ easy to forget; Chorong doesn't even think to speak up at the informal speech being thrown around so carelessly.) “It feels good once you try it. I made Naeun do it, too.”

“And how well that worked out,” Chorong bites. Over her short course of working here, she's only known Naeun as “the girl at the back,” doing the dishes and other kitchen duties - anything involving not interacting with any customers. Only recently Chorong learned that Naeun started off at the same place as her and at certain point demanded to relocate. Chorong wasn't told the reasoning behind her decision but it's starting to make sense now.

Eunji chuckles dryly. “Was Oh Hayoung running her mouth again?”

“Namjoo-ssi, actually,” Chorong raises her voice slightly, enough for Namjoo seated at her usual spot to hear. She's gotten quite acquainted with her, to the point of introducing cheekiness to their occasional conversations (a progression she previously made with her co-workers, bar the mysterious Son Naeun, during the first few weeks on the job.)

“Not hearing, not speaking, dying slow death from this list of required reading,” Namjoo announces.

“Yeah, yeah.” Eunji rolls her eyes. Despite her objection to other people's whistle-blowing practices, it was her who informed Chorong not to be fooled by Namjoo’s seemingly studious posture. Fashion magazines apparently have a permanent placement in Namjoo’s carrier bag and she often sneaks them in onto the table between textbooks and class notes. “Wait, oh my god, you did it.”

Chorong startles. “What did I do?”

“Just now, you didn't whisper-speak when telltaling on Namjoo!”

Oh. “Oh.”

Eunji pats her on the back. “Good job. Looking forward to next volume level.” She smiles her angelic smile despite being the devil incarnate.

“She's not letting it go until you do it, you know,” a voice says after Eunji excuses herself to return to whatever her job requirements are beside harassing others. Chorong looks around for the source but only catches a glimpse at the long-haired figure as it's disappearing through the door at the back. She barely registers Namjoo stopping by the counter before heading out and mumbling, “B+ on the sugar input this time.”

Chorong sighs. “I just need to do it once, right?” she checks with Hayoung, who always seems to be nearby even though her own duties should theoretically keep her occupied. “In front of a witness is enough?”

“Ooh,” Hayoung lets out, clearly catching on.

She'll do it, all right. She just won't give Eunji the satisfaction of hearing it.

“I'm counting on you, Hayoung.” Chorong sighs deeply to brace herself for action. “Yah, if anyone wants anything you better not sit on your asses waiting and come here and get it!”

“ _Unnie_ ,” Hayoung says, tone partly shocked, mostly impressed. “Where did _that_ come from?”

But Chorong doesn't hear. A head turned around before she even finished, before her brain could scold her on how loud she was being and what she was saying, and how she should have stopped. The head grabs her attention and makes her lose focus of everything else by being particularly noticeable as its hair is completely dyed bright pink. The owner of the pink abundance, a girl with a mole under her eye visible even from the distance of five tables away, stares and stares. Chorong freezes under the judgment for several terrible seconds, before the girl gets up, and Chorong realizes with panic that she's aiming for the counter.

“Hayoahh,” she whimpers, and in a quick sequence follows instinct rather than rational thought - not that there would be any time for that anyway: tuning out the approaching danger into a warning background, she takes a few long steps behind Hayoung, pushes her slightly so that she stumbles toward the counter, more steps until she's at the door to the back and rushing through into the kitchen where she crouches on the floor next to the fridge.

Naeun looks at her like she, too, is judging her from behind the book she's reading but Chorong thinks she can take it over the glare of the beautiful-but-scary-looking stranger.

Hayoung makes her way into the kitchen exactly three times. First, a couple minutes later. “Unnie, she left.”

“The café?”

“No, to her seat.”

Chorong gestures wildly to send her off.

Second, 20 minutes later, “Unnie, she left for real now.”

“I don't believe you.”

“Gasp,” Hayoung says. “I'm the most trustworthy person around.”

Naeun chuckles. Chorong silently agrees and only shoos Hayoung away again.

Third, three minutes after, “ _Unnie_ , I really cannot manage the shop by myself.”

“Do you swear she's gone?”

Hayoung nods eagerly. “I swear on Eunji unnie’s life!”

The statement doesn't ease Chorong’s mind, only prompts a sadistic thought that Eunji’s death would have made so many things easier, but then - “She's in the clear,” Naeun says, ambiguous in her reasoning but straightforward in the message, and Chorong allows herself to be dragged back by the stressed-out Hayoung at last.

“What did she want anyway?” she grumbles after taking care of “Dongwoo”’s order.

Hayoung eyes her from her phone. “Coffee, duh. You did say everyone should get off their asses and come order.”

Duh. It is obvious now that Hayoung pointed it out. Until now Chorong's imagination was taking rather wild turns, stranding far from reality. “I did, didn't I?”

And that should be it. Chorong shouldn't spend the rest of her shift thinking the incident over, torn between conclusions such as if she hadn't run, the girl would have probably gotten angry, even violent, over Chorong's demanding tone, and daydreaming about juvenile scenarios in which the girl was actually going to ask Chorong out and they were going to live happily ever after. None of that should occupy her mind and yet that's exactly what happens.

  


Chorong isn't sure if she's grateful that Hayoung informed Eunji about the most humiliating experience in her life, or not. Grateful, because Eunji drops any mentions of the shouting exercise, Hayoung probably passing on just how traumatic it was. Not, because now everyone knows of the most humiliating experience in her life.

“Unnie, _honey, baby_ ,” Namjoo tells her, hanging out by the counter without pretend study notes for once. Chorong raises eyebrows; when did they progress to English terms of endearment and why did no one inform her? “What's the moping about? Is it about the other day?”

 _Everyone_ , echoes in Chorong’s miserable mind. “Maybe,” she gives in. “But before you call me over-the-top, I made a list of why… I'm not, “ she finishes weakly. She doesn't like the look Namjoo is giving her but, well, she was bound to have this conversation with someone and she's aware it might have seemed like she overreacted, even if the situation was objectively horrid, and so she prepared herself.

“A list…”

“A list,” Chorong confirms resolutely.

“Well, let's hear it.” Hayoung, of course, pops out of nowhere and Namjoo pulls her next to her and they stare at Chorong with expectant smiles.

This is getting out of hand. “I don't want to anymore. You guys are mean.”

“Oh no, unnie,” Hayoung’s expression turns somewhat serious, “please read your list to us.”

Chorong stares them down first, going for intimidation, and pulls out the paper she kept in the pocket of her apron. She clears her throat. _“Reasons Why Chorong Was Being Less Ridiculous than You Might Think. Number one: Jung Eunji’s reign has made me scared and vulnerable.”_

She waits for any signs of protest. Namjoo and Hayoung communicate with their eyes for a few seconds, and then Namjoo nods. “Makes sense so far.”

She skips _number one: addendum A_ ( _Jung Eunji’s apprentice Oh Hayoung didn't do much to soothe my nerves_ ), and addenda B and C with complaints about Naeun and Namjoo as well (she was never going to read it all, it very much depended on who her target audience was going to be), and goes straight to number two. _“The pink-haired girl was most likely an iljin.”_

Namjoo widens her eyes. “Because…?”

“Who else dyes their hair like that?”

“I'm speechless.”

“Unnie,” Hayoung takes over. “You're aware you're not 50 and therefore surely not judging someone’s character based on the color of their hair?”

“Thank you,” Namjoo finds her speech again. “Make it 70. Not even my mother would.”

Chorong won't budge. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Wow. Anything else?”

Chorong peeks at her paper. There is _number three: Said girl was very pretty (yes, I noticed) (addendum A: Pretty people make me nervous) (addendum B: She could be a pretty iljin and should be avoided so maybe being nervous is a good thing_ ), the only issue is how she's not out to anyone at work and has yet to figure out if it's wise to be, so she folds the paper back into the pocket. “Nah.”

“And that's my cue to get back to my studies,” Namjoo says in a dramatically sad tone.

“Mean!” Chorong shrieks after her, and of course, her life is a joke, because in that moment a familiar face appears at the door. Namjoo turns around and mouths a “wow.” The Girl looks at Chorong for a moment before finding a seat, quite far, thank god, and Chorong does her best not to run. For now.

“Fuck, Hayoung. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Hayoung gapes at her. “Amazing.”

“What's going on in here?” Eunji shows up. “Oh, is that…?”

“It is,” Hayoung confirms. “Chorong unnie is having a meltdown. We need to brainstorm on how to help her.”

“Huh?” Chorong lets out.

“I know!” Hayoung raises her finger. “You should try picturing her naked.”

“ _What?”_ Chorong slaps a hand over her own mouth. This shouting thing was truly a slippery slope. She carefully keeps the Girl out of her view so she can't see her reaction or follow Hayoung’s treacherous advice and freak out twofold.

“That's what you do when you're nervous.”

“Not one-on-one!” she aggressively whispers this time.

“Okay, kids, let's focus,” Eunji cuts in.

Hayoung sighs. “Unnie thinks she's an iljin.”

“Iljin or not, she is sitting here without ordering, despite getting clear instructions from Chorong unnie from what I heard,” Eunji smirks. Chorong reminds herself that the concepts of _peace_ and _Jung Eunji_ don't blend well. “I'm going in. I'll ask if she's an iljin for you.”

“Please be kidding,” Chorong connects her hands in a prayer when Eunji promptly leaves to take the order.

“They're talking,” Hayoung narrates the scene for her while her back is turned. “Mostly Eunji unnie tho- Oh, now she's talking too. They're laughing.” Chorong can hear Eunji’s laughter, sadly not the Girl’s. She imagines her voice to be deep and cool and husky. “More talking. More laughing. She's twirling her hair? Oh, Eunji unnie’s good, the girl was totally apathetic when I was by the counter the other day.”

That snaps Chorong out of her semi-hiding. “What do you mean?” She turns around to see for herself and is hit with a stupid pang of jealousy. To be fair, it's less about the Girl - despite her penchant for ruining Chorong’s life, all she knows about her at this point is that she's pretty, has a scary stare and pink hair. It's the example of how easy this is for Eunji. And she can't help to make it a little about the Girl, too; Eunji could be into girls for all she knows and this Girl could be into Eunji from what Hayoung is saying. But she was _Chorong’s_ hopefully-not-an-iljin, only next to Eunji she doesn’t stand a chance.

Eunji returns - Chorong hasn't even registered if Hayoung ended up answering her question - a satisfied smile on her face. “So! She's really nice! Her name is Yoon Bomi.”

Chorong casts her petty emotions aside. “That's a cute name,” she says in sudden daze. “Doesn't sound very iljin-like.”

“Eunji unnie, let's put _teach unnie not to stereotype_ on your to-do list,” Hayoung says, and adds, muttering, “Too many lists, too little time.”

“Good idea,” Eunji confirms before turning to Chorong again. “I know more but wouldn’t that be cheating? Find out for yourself.” Eunji sticks out her tongue at her and something tells Chorong her momentary jealousy really was ill-informed. (She still can't help but envy Eunji’s ability to launch into action that doesn't involve running and hiding, but a little spark of hope lights up alongside it.)

  


Chorong is in the middle of taking orders from two tall guys who came together, significantly more at ease with the task these days (through her own effort, she’d argue, no thanks to Eunji’s meddling), when one of them suddenly steps away, which Chorong doesn’t think much of until he starts walking behind the counter and toward the back office. So much for ease. She didn’t think coffee shops required security service.

“Excuse me,” she says, and louder when he pays no mind to her (while the other looks on, and oh my god, is this a two-man robbery?), “that’s employees only!”

“Jung Eunji!” the guy says by the door, which shuts her up. (She’s still not ruling out the robbery, though, or something of the kind; she wouldn’t be surprised to hear Eunji has made enemies.)

“Cha Hakyeon!” she hears before she sees the door open, and Eunji is walking out, as confident as ever, pushing the guy, Cha Hakyeon, back to the front. “Did you scare Chorong unnie?”

“We most certainly did not,” Cha Hakyeon defends himself (or "them," apparently) while Chorong lets out a simultaneous “No!” to defend her dignity.

“I know _Taekwoon_ didn’t,” Eunji puts a hand on the other guy’s arm and stands in between them, addressing Chorong. “Unnie, meet my best friend Taekwoon and his boyfriend and my other best friend Hakyeon. Best friends, meet Chorong unnie.”

“Why am the _other_?” Hakyeon grumbles. “Nice to meet you, though. Don’t be mistaken by Eunji’s lack of respect.” He points to the two of them. “We’re 25?”

“I’m 24, oppa,” Chorong nods. (She mentally pats herself on the back for daring straight into the oppa territory while it took her weeks to drop the formalities with Namjoo.)

“I introduced them,” Eunji says, ignoring all of Hakyeon’s accusations. “I’ve actually been hoping you’d meet Taekwoon, he’s even shyer than you.”

Chorong and Taekwoon exchange shy (yes, thank you, Eunji) bows.

“What are you doing here anyway?” Eunji takes over the counter and their order Chorong abandoned with the disturbance earlier.

“Right, I almost forgot thanks to your charming presence.” Eunji mimes throwing the cup of coffee in the making into his face. “I wanted to hang up a poster for the party I’m throwing. I’m the founder of the university LGBT club,” he explains for Chorong’s sake. “It’s hard to be too open around here, as you might or might not know, so we have these occasional get-togethers.”

“Cool,” Chorong says noncommittally.

“You don’t have to spend time with the loud people if you come,” Taekwoon speaks up, looking at Hakyeon. Chorong has to strain her ears to hear the whole of the sentence, and Taekwoon’s voice - she only now realizes it’s the first time she’s hearing it, Hakyeon ordered for both of them - comes a surprise. She has an inane passing thought that it’s like a male version of her voice.

Meanwhile, Hakyeon’s face portrays a mixture of indignation and pride, but he only says, “True.”

She laughs a little, hoping Taekwoon understands she appreciates the remark. She thinks to add, “That’s a convincing argument, actually.”

Taekwoon nods solemnly.

  


Somehow this little exchange ensures the news spreads and Chorong's closet shatters despite how vague she thought she was being. It turns out completely okay - in one sense of the word at least.

“Heard there’s a certain girl you like to picture naked,” Namjoo winks while waiting for her coffee.

“What on earth!” Chorong exclaims. “I hate this place. No comment.” Once her back is turned, she carefully mixes five packets of sugar into the drink. She’ll cover for it with her tips if needed.

“It’s you who finally made this place interesting, actually.”

Chorong is quite dumbstruck by this claim. She pushes the cup to Namjoo. If it happened to spill over on Namjoo's jacket it would be a bonus, but tragically she's out of luck. “Off you go.”

"So you're going to this party?"

"Maybe," she allows.

"Hoping a certain girl shows up?"

Maybe. "Bye!"

 

Chorong doesn’t think she can handle the party preparations by herself so when she's stuck hopelessly scanning her wardrobe, she ends up calling Eunji - god help her.

“What do people wear to a party?”

“ _What are you thinking?”_

Chorong makes a face. “Depends. Am I going for chill gay or glamorous gay?”

“ _I don’t know what either of that means. Go for Chorong. Go Chorong!”_

“This whole conversation is embarrassing,” Chorong notes.

“ _Oh please, this is way down there on the list of embarrassing things I’ve seen my friend do. Not my stories to tell, though.”_

Embarrassment aside, Chorong has to admit (even if not out loud) that having Eunji put up with her panic on the line is quite calming. “Okay, what about this?” She spreads a black V-neck and black skinnies on the bed and snaps a picture to send to Eunji.

“ _Hot,”_ Eunji appraises it. Is "hot" a good thing? Does Chorong want to be "hot?" Before she can say anything, Eunji continues, already understanding the workings of her brain with startling accuracy, _“No overthinking, the choice is made, it’s a good one, have fun.”_

“Won’t I be too… Naeun-ish?” Chorong voices one more concern.

“ _Naeun doesn’t have a monopoly on black.”_

Chorong hums.

“ _Forget clothes, stop acting like you’re going to a funeral. If you want an overwhelming cheerleader, stick with Hakyeon. If you want overwhelming avoidance, stick with Taekwoon. They’re good kids. When in doubt, booze is on the house.”_

“Thanks.”

“ _Sure.”_

“Really, thanks unnie,” Chorong blurts out, and only realizes what she said when Eunji’s laughter attacks her ear and she backtracks. “Ugh. Ugh! Be quiet. I’m hanging up.”

She does, resigning herself to future teasing for her slip-up, but right now there’s a party to attend.

  


She decides to go with avoidance five minutes into the party, which is located at Hakyeon and Taekwoon’s off-campus apartment. She didn’t know how many people she expected to show up at a university LGBT party but the actual amount is certainly beyond it. It's already in full swing: she could hear the loud music even from the pavement in front of the building at her arrival and any firm surface possible is filled with emptied soju bottles. The atmosphere isn’t an off-putting kind of overwhelming - everyone is clearly having good-natured fun and the knowledge it’s straight people-free is a plus - but it’s overwhelming nonetheless.

(She doesn’t spy any sign of pink even after her initial reconnaissance of the area. It was a long shot anyway.)

She leans against the wall next to Taekwoon, who’s holding a bottle just like many others (Chorong grabbed her own on her way there) but unlike them he’s simply observing the living room and looking decidedly not thrilled. Taekwoon’s hint of an invitation at their first meeting isn’t enough to convince her he enjoys her company, per se, but she got Eunji’s permission so Taekwoon can take it up with her if he feels the need.

“What do usually people do at these parties?” she shouts over the music after a while. It’s not a mere attempt at conversation; she’s been wondering if people are expected to hook up or if it’s more of a _see who’s one of us_ kind of deal; if everyone’s already familiar with each other and she’s the only newcomer or if they’re just braver in social settings than she is. Does the thumping ever settles into a quieter setting or is it a night-long activity?

She doesn’t worry about coming off as inexperienced in party occasions as she is. There’s something about people “even shyer than her,” as Eunji said, that’s strangely liberating.

She looks up at Taekwoon when he doesn’t say a word (or she just didn’t hear him), and he shrugs and then twitches his shoulder toward the center of the room. Chorong follows his line of sight leading to the dancing cluster of people. Hakyeon, the center of the center, is wildly jumping and shaking into the rhythm of some American artist Chorong doesn’t recognize, surrounded by similar movements from others. One of the girls in the crowd is particularly noticeable, oozing either skill or confidence (they both tends to look interchangeable to Chorong, whose dancing prowess is pretty much nonexistent), swooshing her long, dark brown hair in all directions.

With mild interest, she keeps an eye on the girl radiating with easy energy. She’s curious how long she can keep it up when even Hakyeon has to support his weight on his friends’ shoulders about halfway through the song.

Great, she’ll have to go to work tomorrow and if they torture her enough as they do so well, she’ll be forced to admit she spent the night people-watching. Maybe it’s the alcohol but the prospect makes her a little giddy: she has a job she’s getting better at! Annoying friends who care! The only downside is that she’ll have to say goodbye to the fantasy of Yoon Bomi. The Straight Girl, she should get used to saying, if Hakyeon’s promise that “ _everyone_ will be there” is anything to go by. She could throw it all behind now and open her mind to meeting new people, potential friends or otherwise, but knowing herself, she will need to sulk about it first.

The song comes to an end and it is only then that the energetic girl stops to catch her breath. Someone points to her mess of hair and she laughs, the sound obnoxious in a sweet way and loud enough even as the playlist puts on another song.

“Does obnoxious in a sweet way makes se-?” she begins saying but unwittingly gasps before she can finish the sentence. The girl just pushed her now-brown hair from her face and it’s the Girl, Yoon Bomi. Their eyes meet and Chorong can see a flicker of recognition on her side as well. In fact, for a moment she looks as shocked as Chorong feels before turning away and forgetting Chorong for music. Lucky her.

“I would think I imagined her naked enough times to recognize her body by now.” Chorong is probably very drunk. She's hardly aware Taekwoon is still next to her and oh - then he isn’t, ungluing himself from the wall and disappearing.

Chorong occupies herself with shooting imaginary lasers through Yoon Bomi’s back when Hakyeon blocks her view. “Are you okay?” he asks, sounding more amused than concerned, unlike his second question. “Where’s Taekie?”

“I don’t know. _He’s_ my babysitter.”

“Okay?” Hakyeon chuckles. “By the way! I’m here because I’m taking song requests. Anything?” She must be thinking longer than is normal because throughout her ongoing thought process he checks, “Hello?”

“I request trot. Trot!” she shouts for emphasis.

“I don’t know you well enough to tell if you’re kidding so I’ll just do it, yeah?”

“Good.” She gives him a thumb-up. “Jang Yoonjeong, _Omona!_ ”

She’s not _entirely_ sure where the thought process led her but it’s somewhere along the lines of how this will teach her. Yoon Bomi. For forgetting about her. Try dancing to _this_. (Also, Chorong genuinely likes Jang Yoonjeong and trot but she keeps that on the down low due to the, in her opinion, unfair prejudice against the genre.)

The general volume of the room increases once everyone realizes the song that started playing is trot, to various degrees of amusement and laughter; a few, including Yoon Bomi, freeze in confusion. Among the hysterical chaos Hakyeon yells something and gestures to Chorong.

Countless pairs of eyes turning their attention on her wasn’t part of her plan, like a replay of the coffee shop disaster when Yoon Bomi’s existence first came into prominence, and once again that’s the presence Chorong cares about, and in her relaxed state she doesn’t even run.

Then her plan falls apart as Yoon Bomi tears her eyes off and starts trudging in place to the rhythm. It looks silly and undefined at first, but soon she finds her footing and returns to her magnetic dancing style, which _somehow_ still works with the song. Chorong would bet anyone would acknowledge trot as youthful music if they saw what she's seeing.

She’s in love.

  


“How could I be in love with someone I don’t even know?” Chorong vigorously scrubs the counter top. It’s past noon and the hangover she woke up to is drilling holes into her head.

“This text from you at 3 in the morning says otherwise,” Hayoung argues, grasping the dangerous piece of technology that is a cellphone.

Chorong throws her a murderous look. “Why do you even have Eunji’s phone?” If she were to look for silver linings, it's good to know her intoxicated self was clearly still sensible enough not to text Hayoung. Not that she meant to text Eunji, or anyone, but Chorong is currently considering the possibility that Hayoung is actually the eviller out of the two. Or Eunji just sent her hell minion to do the dirty work for her. In any case: “No comment.”

“How about you give me that dish cloth? It seems clean already.” But Chorong doesn’t let go. The cleaning frenzy that overpowered her goes beyond her job description but it calms her down. “Oh, a new text! Hakyeon oppa.”

Chorong pauses in her scrubbing and waits with dread if this text has anything to do with her. It’s probably a narcissistic thought but-

“Unnie! You scared Taekwoon oppa? That’s awful.”

“He said that?” Chorong resumes scrubbing. “Wow.”

The door to the shop swings open and Namjoo speed-walks inside. “Unnie! Yoon Bomi alert, Yoon Bomi alert!”

“ _What?_ ”

Following her yell, Eunji emerges from the back office and even Naeun’s heads pops out the kitchen, alarmed looks on their faces. Before anyone can say anything, Chorong grabs Namjoo with one hand and Eunji with the other and drags them toward the kitchen, forcing Hayoung to back away to avoid injury. They loudly protest but Chorong ignores them and pushes them, one by one, through the door. “Nobody gets out of there before I say so!”

She lets out a deep breath, and then she hears a voice behind her, a timider version of the laughter she has memorized from last night despite the alcohol disadvantage. “Oh my god, you’re scary.”

“Eh?” she turns quickly to face what she knew she had to face. Yoon Bomi. She manages a small, “Me?”

And Bomi actually does look scared, even with the smile she's sporting. It’s almost a bizarre contrast to the fearless way she was dancing yesterday or the way her stare would always freak Chorong out to the maximum. Chorong laughs nervously at the concept.

“Yeah, aren’t you, like, the scary manager unnie around here?”

“Huh? I’m…” Another giggle escapes from her throat. “No, never, I’m innocent.”

Bomi gives out a laugh of her own, not as obnoxious as her party one, still very sweet. “Fair enough. I mean, you like trot.”

“You dance nice, even to trot,” Chorong says, amazed by her own courage. She moves to the coffee machine to have an excuse to hide her face behind her hair as she lowers her back over the coffee she's set to prepare. Right on time because she startles when Bomi laughs harder now, obnoxiousness in full force. Chorong loves it. They fall quiet for a moment. Chorong can’t decipher what that means so she just busies herself with the coffee and sets the cup in front of Bomi once it’s finished, heart racing in her chest.

Bomi picks it up and studies it. “You know my order… and my name?”

And that’s weird. Right. Oh god. “I’m sorry! I’m not a stalker. That, Eunji-”

Bomi scrunches her face. “ _I’m_ sorry, I am a stalker. I asked around for your name... Chorong-ssi."

Chorong fights against her facial muscles threatening with a too-obvious smirk. "Isn't that cheating? Why didn't you ask me?"

"Yeah, that... well..." Bomi laughs awkwardly, and it finally dawns on Chorong: could it be that Bomi is as nervous as she is?

“Can I ask you something?” she blurts out.

“Yes,” Bomi says almost immediately.

“Why isn’t your hair pink?” Chorong puts balance from one foot on the other. That wasn’t what she wanted to ask.

“Ah. I’m studying to be a hairdresser so I train on myself sometimes.” Bomi pauses for a moment and adds, “Why, which color do you like better?”

“Neither.” The only indication Bomi's smile faltered are her eyes and Chorong belatedly realizes she didn't choose a most ideal wording. “Both! That’s what I meant. I can’t decide, I like both.”

"Oh." Bomi’s expression livens up again. “Can _I_ ask something now?”

Chorong opens her mouth to speak, and in that moment the kitchen door creaks and reveals Namjoo, trying and failing to make herself invisible with her hunched stature. “Kim Namjoo,” Chorong utters. There’s no point in pretending she doesn’t exist now that the moment was broken. Namjoo looks up to Chorong and Bomi’s accusatory eyes.

“I need to pee,” Namjoo says weakly. “Has anyone asked anyone out yet?”

“Kim Namjoo!”

Chorong resists the urge to hunt Namjoo down when she springs into a run toward the bathroom. “I’m not scary,” she defends herself against Bomi’s raised eyebrows.

“Okay,” Bomi agrees, looking unconvinced and, if Chorong is right, a little impatient. Chorong tenses at what that might mean. “Well, can I ask now?”

Smiling, Chorong rushes with her answer before any other interruption can raise havoc. Maybe, just maybe, working at this hellish coffee shop wasn't such a bad idea after all.

**Author's Note:**

> also working on one-shots with platonic hayoung/eunji and platonic namjoo/naeun (and more silly ot6 times) from the same 'verse ^^


End file.
